"You're U.S. citizens. We're defending American lives."
"Insults will get you nowhere," Chiun retorted.
As the bullets flew, Chiun called out encouragement. "Smite the godless Canadians in the name of your emperor!"
"Maybe we should pitch in," said Remo, stepping back and twisting out of the way of a short burst of 9 mm bullets.
Chiun made a disapproving face. "The godless ones are losing."
"How can you tell?"
"They are outnumbered," Chiun sniffed.
"But the Canadians have bigger weapons."
"And they are fighting men who eat fish in prodigious quantities. They are outbrained."
"Good point. But maybe we should get in the water and sink a few cutters for Old Glory."
"You may if you wish."
"I don't wish."
"Then do not."
Remo frowned. "Could be I have a better idea."
Finding Sandy exhorting her crew between bursts, Remo said, "Get us close to one of those cutters. We can board them."
"We'd get our white sterns shot off." She had a Glock in hand and laid its sights on a Canadian seaman who was swinging his rifle around for a clean shot. Taking her tongue between her teeth, she squeezed the trigger.
The seaman with the rifle threw it up into the air and grabbed at his side. The rifle made two complete turns, and the heavy butt slammed him on the head. He fell over and into the water, where he sank from sight.
"Nice shooting," said Remo conversationally.
"For practice I pop the heads off gulls and Mother Carey's chickens," Sandy said, reloading.
"Why don't you just fire to sink?"
"No fun in that."
"Guess not," said Remo, who decided that he'd probably have to go into the water after all.
That was when the first Coast Guard Falcon jet came barreling down out of the gunpowder gray sky.
"They armed?" Remo asked Sandy.
Sandy looked up from winging a Canadian chief petty officer and said, "No. But the Canucks don't know that."
The jets screeched down low and made a single pass. The Canadian cutters took instant notice. A fusillade of fire was aimed at the fast-moving planes. It was pure reflex. By the time the bullets left their barrels, the jets had screamed by and were a distant, fading thunder.
As things turned out, it was enough of a distraction to turn the tide.
Their attention on the cold, gray skies, fearful of a second pass, the Canadians were sitting ducks to the rifles of the ragtag fishing armada.
"Slay the fishmongers!" Chiun exhorted, shaking a raging fist in the air.
U.S. seamen scrambled up their masts and fired down from crow's nests. That gave them the high ground, and Canadian seamen began succumbing to the withering fire. Others leaped up from belowdecks to take up their fallen weapons, but they, too, were easily picked off.
"We're winning! We're winning!" Sandy crowed.
"You mean they're winning," Remo corrected.
"Us. Them. We're all Americans, aren't we?"
In the end the Canadian cutter captains were forced to raise the white flag.
Seeing this, Chiun cried, "Now. Finish off the murderous fishmongers!"
"That's the white flag of surrender," Remo corrected.
Chiun shook his grim head slowly, "No. That is the pale flag of death. For he who surrenders deserves death."
Sandy was on the horn saying, "Attention! All vessels within the sound of my voice. This is the USCG Cayuga. I am instructing the Canadian Coast Guard vessels to lay down their arms and prepare to be boarded. All you others, hold your fire and stand back. This is a Coast Guard operation."
A gravelly voice called back. "This is Captain Sirio Testaverde of the Sicilian Vengeance. I say who does what. And I say these damn Canucks are my prisoners."
"Then you are all Coast Guard prisoners," Sandy countered.
Silence filled the air.
"I tell you what. You may have these spineless ones. We will sail north to avenge Tomasso."
"Who's Tomasso?" Remo wanted to know.
Sandy shrugged. "I forbid you to further penetrate Canadian territorial waters," Sandy yelled loudly enough that the Master of Sinanju covered his delicate ears with his hands.
"Forbid your mother. We are going."
And with that the fishing fleet dispersed in all directions. They moved away from the center of battle, leaving the Canadian cutters sitting exposed. One cutter tried to slip away with the fleet, but a shot fired across its bows from three directions cooled the ardor for flight.
Sandy scanned the surrounding seas. "Damn! Where are our reinforcements?"
At that moment the Falcons made another noisy, impotent pass.
"Don't look now, but I think that's them," Remo said glumly.